doctor operated at a level of considerable secrecy. Kit never left Dr. Colbert's home; in fact, he was never allowed below the second floor of the house. His exercise consisted of walking back and forth in the upstairs hall and climbing up and down the attic stairs. Once his eyes could bear light bright enough to read by, he was given books, but only during the day; no lights were permitted in the attic at night.
Zoe was a great comfort. She ran the little household with the assistance of a middle-aged housekeeper but spent as much time as she could up in the attic, keeping him company. She played both backgammon and chess with a skill that made him work to win, and he did so only a little more often than he lost. Kit had inquired obliquely whether she might be interested in resuming the close association they had begun the night they'd met, and learned to his dismay that the doctor had given her strict instructions regarding exertion of any sort. As his health improved, he began to wonder if those instructions were truly for his benefit or stemming from the doctor's respect for the proprieties. Either way, as a guest in the Colbert home, he could hardly persist with such an ungentlemanly line of inquiry.
Several anxious weeks passed before Zoe came skipping upstairs with the news that they would be leaving that night. The faithful Marie would be left with instructions to call the authorities in the morning and report the disappearance of her employer's daughter. Eventually, Zoe said, Marie would rent out the house and go to stay with her married daughter in Tours.
Events followed her announcement so quickly that by the time Kit caught his breath, they were on a little trading vessel sneaking along the coast. He didn't know how the doctor had gotten them past the inspection stops, but suspected it was a combination of hidden agents, well-forged documents, and bribery.
He had no opportunity to enquire. They had been at sea for only a little while before he was suffering from seasickness as he never had before the shooting, but he considered the queasiness a fair trade for leaving France with his head still attached to his body. The doctor established him in a swinging cot in a dim cubbyhole considerably less comfortable than his usual traveling arrangements, and gave him something to help him sleep through the adjustment.
Unfortunately, he never made the adjustment. He went on deck a time or two, hoping the change in air would help his body settle down, but it did not. The doctor's best guess was that this was an unexpected complication of his head injury. Solid food would not stay down, and Kit became heartily weary of soup. After a week of nearly continual sickness, the doctor regretfully informed him that if time did not cure him, he might wish to avoid sea travel once he was back in England.
Getting back to England anytime soon was looking less likely by the day. The doctor had hoped to be stopped by some official British vessel and transfer his passenger aboard, but although they twice had sight of English ships, both were engaged in battle with Frenchmen, and the captain of their vessel got them out of the way as quickly as he could. And so, with never an intention of going anywhere near the place, Kit found himself in the port city of Lisbon.
He saw very little of the town, although Zoe spent some hours in the shops and came back to the ship wearing a new dress—a simple thing, blue—and looking very pleased with herself. Kit complimented her on her appearance mostly because that was how he had been brought up. To him, she looked exquisite no matter what she wore, but he knew that ladies set much store of having notice taken of their clothing.
The conference that brought them here involved only a dozen scientific gentlemen besides the two doctors and their host. It was held on a comfortable, rambling estate about an hour's ride into the hills outside Lisbon. The landowner, Don Giraldo da Almansor, possessed a
Zoe was a great comfort. She ran the little household with the assistance of a middle-aged housekeeper but spent as much time as she could up in the attic, keeping him company. She played both backgammon and chess with a skill that made him work to win, and he did so only a little more often than he lost. Kit had inquired obliquely whether she might be interested in resuming the close association they had begun the night they'd met, and learned to his dismay that the doctor had given her strict instructions regarding exertion of any sort. As his health improved, he began to wonder if those instructions were truly for his benefit or stemming from the doctor's respect for the proprieties. Either way, as a guest in the Colbert home, he could hardly persist with such an ungentlemanly line of inquiry.
Several anxious weeks passed before Zoe came skipping upstairs with the news that they would be leaving that night. The faithful Marie would be left with instructions to call the authorities in the morning and report the disappearance of her employer's daughter. Eventually, Zoe said, Marie would rent out the house and go to stay with her married daughter in Tours.
Events followed her announcement so quickly that by the time Kit caught his breath, they were on a little trading vessel sneaking along the coast. He didn't know how the doctor had gotten them past the inspection stops, but suspected it was a combination of hidden agents, well-forged documents, and bribery.
He had no opportunity to enquire. They had been at sea for only a little while before he was suffering from seasickness as he never had before the shooting, but he considered the queasiness a fair trade for leaving France with his head still attached to his body. The doctor established him in a swinging cot in a dim cubbyhole considerably less comfortable than his usual traveling arrangements, and gave him something to help him sleep through the adjustment.
Unfortunately, he never made the adjustment. He went on deck a time or two, hoping the change in air would help his body settle down, but it did not. The doctor's best guess was that this was an unexpected complication of his head injury. Solid food would not stay down, and Kit became heartily weary of soup. After a week of nearly continual sickness, the doctor regretfully informed him that if time did not cure him, he might wish to avoid sea travel once he was back in England.
Getting back to England anytime soon was looking less likely by the day. The doctor had hoped to be stopped by some official British vessel and transfer his passenger aboard, but although they twice had sight of English ships, both were engaged in battle with Frenchmen, and the captain of their vessel got them out of the way as quickly as he could. And so, with never an intention of going anywhere near the place, Kit found himself in the port city of Lisbon.
He saw very little of the town, although Zoe spent some hours in the shops and came back to the ship wearing a new dress—a simple thing, blue—and looking very pleased with herself. Kit complimented her on her appearance mostly because that was how he had been brought up. To him, she looked exquisite no matter what she wore, but he knew that ladies set much store of having notice taken of their clothing.
The conference that brought them here involved only a dozen scientific gentlemen besides the two doctors and their host. It was held on a comfortable, rambling estate about an hour's ride into the hills outside Lisbon. The landowner, Don Giraldo da Almansor, possessed a
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